


if we're gonna do anything, we might as well just fuck

by jvo_taiski



Series: PJO one-shot collection [3]
Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Boredom, Drinking, Frustration, Light-Hearted Ending, M/M, Sexual Tension, Smut, but it's okay because he's secretly interesting, or so percy finds out, reflecting on Jason's bland fucking character rick gave him, yeah a lot of it is sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:15:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26516560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jvo_taiski/pseuds/jvo_taiski
Summary: Percy's bored to death. And sexually frustrated. Camp just doesn't seem to have the same spark anymore, and he doesn't seem to be able to connect with anyone, even Jason-- especially Jason.Because no matter how hard he tries, they just don't seem to click. But maybe they just need to vent their frustrations a different way before they can try getting along.
Relationships: Jason Grace/Percy Jackson
Series: PJO one-shot collection [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1876507
Comments: 7
Kudos: 188





	if we're gonna do anything, we might as well just fuck

**Author's Note:**

> guess the song lmao

Percy sighs and tosses the tennis ball in the air, cursing when he misses and it lands on his face. He’s lying in his cabin and he’s never been so bored in his life. Scratch that, at least he isn’t in maths class. But Camp Half-Blood, the place he thought he’d call home forever? It’s suddenly very boring.

Jason Grace snorts with laughter and Percy glares at him. They’re not friends, not really. But they’re the two oldest in camp and the two most experienced counsellors. Jason’s only at camp because he’s got nowhere else to go and Percy? Well, even though Percy knows he’s too old he’s still holding onto the memories the camp held for him when he was young. It used to be a home but now it feels hollow.

Annabeth is gone, in college in California. She’s made loads of mortal friends and she loves the sense of normalcy they give her—she invited Percy over for the summer but he declined. Technically, they’re still dating but they haven’t spoken in months. Percy doesn’t feel sad, just a little hollow. It feels weird being at camp without Annabeth. He’s never experienced it without her before and honestly, it’s a lot greyer. Or maybe the magic is just gone. Percy supposes there are only so many times one can climb the lava wall or play capture the flag without getting bored.

And it’s not just Annabeth who’s gone. Clarisse hasn’t been here for two years and Percy finds himself missing her stupid teasing. Leo fucked off to set up his own garage, the Stolls have their own business, Piper’s off discovering her culture, Grover’s obviously doing his Lord of the Wild shit, Will’s gone to med school and Nico’s gone with him.

Percy sighs again and rolls over to inspect the blonde sitting on the opposite bunk. Despite being part of the seven together and spending all of their free time hanging out, Percy’s still not sure he’d call their relationship ‘friends’. They have nothing in common but they band together anyway, partly because other people expect them to, and partly for convenience—Jason’s presence is tolerable, and familiar. And even if they wouldn’t hang out given a second option, they understand each other.

Jason sort of lives in the Cabin 3 at this point, if only because the Zeus cabin is anything but welcoming and neither of them particularly enjoy sleeping alone. Maybe he doesn’t get as many nightmares as he used to but when he does wake up screaming, he can count on Jason’s warm presence in the cabin or sometimes if he’s lucky, in the bunk with him. They never speak about it in the mornings.

Come to think about it, they never speak, end of. He can’t remember their last proper conversation and stupidly wonders whether they’ve ever actually had one. Truth is, Percy doesn’t know what to say to the younger demigod and he doesn’t know why. He isn’t like Leo, with his cheeky humour, or like Grover’s steady companionship. He trusts Jason, sure, but it doesn’t mean he knows what’s going through the other boy’s head. Maybe he just has the personality of a stale ham sandwich—which would have been a good explanation if he didn’t seem to get along with literally everyone else. Just not Percy.

Percy huffs a third, long sigh and Jason looks up from sharpening his sword. The steady _scratch, scratch_ noise that filled the cabin stops suddenly—Percy had forgotten it was there and now the silence feels naked without it. Jason raises an eyebrow, which Percy takes as him asking what his problem is.

Percy just shakes his head and Jason shrugs, turning back to his sword. His hair, usually gelled into the Roman Legion style, hangs loose around his face and catches the last of the evening light that’s made its way through the windows. He’s sitting directly in a pool of sunlight that cuts through the cabin like a spear and makes his blonde hair glow gold and softens his normally icy eyes—they look like the clear summer sky now.

It’s not the first time Percy’s admired Jason’s unnaturally good looks. He looks like a Roman sculpture—his features are perfectly symmetrical. It’s unnerving. His stupid stapler scar adds that one bit of edge that makes one do a double take and look again at what would be a boring face otherwise. It’s interesting and Percy wants to run his fingers over it. And over the rest of his lips—Percy often wonders whether they’re as soft as they look. They’re full and pink and contrast sharply against his wolf stare and normally icy eyes.

In some ways, he reminds Percy of Annabeth but without any of the life. He’s got the same level head that keeps him in check and the same look of steely determination on his face to name a few things, and that’s not including their physical similarities. See, Percy’s realised he has a type: tall, blonde and can kick his ass. It’s just a shame that Jason’s personality is about as exciting as rice pudding.

No. That’s not fair. His other friends like Jason; maybe Percy and Jason were just never meant to click.

Percy stops staring at his sort-of-friend and rolls onto his back again, going back to tossing the ball he’s holding up and down and up and down while Jason sharpens his sword with a steady _scratch, scratch._ That, and the rhythm of the sea that Percy can always feel in the cabin, calms him down. He’s been too uptight recently but too lethargic to do anything about it. It’s a weird feeling—thanks to his ADHD, he’s really not used to it and doesn’t know if he likes it.

Jason leaves after another ten minutes, without a word to Percy. He doesn’t ask where he’s going, he’s not supposed to care. They’re not even friends after all. Instead, he contents himself with ogling Jason’s ass when he leaves—besides his own, Percy has to admit that Jason has one of the best arses he’s ever seen. Of course he does. Everything about Jason, from his calves all the way up to his broad back and straight nose is so perfect it’s frustrating. Percy doesn’t even pretend he stares at Jason to ‘try find imperfections’ anymore—well he does that too, but it’s mostly because he’s thirsty and Jason is a walking wet dream.

Percy truly believes that humanity peaked when Jason Grace was crafted and there’s no possible way to surpass that level. Hell, if Jason had a half-decent personality, or at least one that was compatible with Percy’s, Percy would be on his knees and sucking dick in an instant.

He frowns at the ceiling, wondering where Jason’s got to. His relative relaxation is gone and he feels on edge, like he’s waiting for something but isn’t sure what it is. Maybe it’s the sexual frustration—Percy hasn’t been laid since Annabeth left for college.

Maybe he should try calling her. In hindsight, he hasn’t asked for nudes in months and honestly, the thought never really crossed his mind. She hasn’t really spoken to him much either. Does that mean they’ve broken up? Not that Percy cares very much, but he’s restless. He sits up and decides to call his maybe-ex and maybe officially break up with her. It seems pretty harmless and mutual and it makes Percy feel productive.

He tosses on one of Jason’s shirts and pads over to the fountain in the corner, realising that he doesn’t really care whether Annabeth can see the mess on his bunk. Jason’s, of course, is spotless. It’s just another thing that he’s better than Percy at.

Iris takes a while to respond and Percy takes the time to remember the time he smashed the fountain once, in a dream. He feels disconnect from the years he spent convinced he was going to die. Although he knows he doesn’t mean it, a part of him wishes for another quest or prophecy. At least he had a purpose then, and a reason to hold onto the people he loved.

Percy almost doesn’t notice when Iris connects his call: it’s dark wherever Annabeth is. But then he notices a flash of white skin and looks closer. In the tiny window, Annabeth is shirtless and making out with some buff dude on the beach.

Although he was calling to break up and he knows they’ve drifted apart, the sight still leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Maybe it reminds him of better times or maybe he’s just mad that Annabeth’s managed to move on and he’s lying in camp with no friends.

Percy takes one last look at Annabeth’s curves and the way her tanned, lean body shines with sweat as somebody else runs their hands over her. He feels his mind shuttering a little but otherwise there’s no attraction or jealousy towards the scene in front of him. Then, he swipes his hand through the image, watching it dissolve.

He’s still sitting there, staring at the fountain in the half-darkness, when Jason comes back in.

“You good, Perce?”

Again, Jason with his uncanny ability to sense when something’s bothering Percy. Is there anything he can’t do?

“Yeah, bro. Pretty much,” he takes a deep breath before turning around to face Jason. He admires the way the dim turquoise light from the fountain throws ghostly shadows around his face and appreciates the way it makes him look haggard and dangerous. Percy’s never fully appreciated how wolfish the son of Jupiter can look and it makes Percy sit a little straighter and track his every movement. It’s kind of exciting.

“I tried Iris-messaging Annabeth,” he finally admits as Jason shucks off his jeans and reaches for a fresh pair of sweatpants.

“Oh?” Jason carefully takes his gold-rimmed glasses off and sets them on the side, his pecs looking even more defined than usual in the half-light. Percy imagines running his hands all over that body and making him lose his perfectly collected composure for once.

“Yeah. She was shagging some guy on the beach. She didn’t see me,” says Percy, with a nonchalant shrug. He doesn’t know what Jason will say, they’ve never talked about their love lives before.

“Huh,” Jason turns back around, focussing on the paper bag he’s dumped by the door. It makes Percy irrationally mad. Why won’t this guy say anything? He’s at his wit’s end trying to find any inkling of personality in Jason at all, not just the Roman brainwashed airhead who looks like a god but acts like a fucking robot.

“Can’t you say something?” he pleads. He just needs to talk to someone. His stay at camp is boring enough as it is.

“What do you want me to say?” asks Jason, tossing the bag onto his bunk. It makes a sloshing sound. “I thought you guys were drifting away anyway. You haven’t spoken to her in like a month.”

Huh. Maybe Jason does notice things about him. Percy doesn’t know what to say to that, because Jason’s right. He just swallows his disappointment when Jason pulls on a fresh Camp Jupiter T-shirt, covering the abs that Percy was busy admiring.

“I don’t know, man.”

“Are you even hurt?” Jason settles down on his bunk, leaning against the wall. He pulls a bottle out of the bag and to Percy’s shock, it’s a litre of Smirnoff. He smirks at Percy’s incredulous expression—and for once, Percy thinks that maybe Jason has a character after all.

He doesn’t bother answer Jason’s question; he’s certain that Jason knows the answer to that anyway. Instead, he accepts the bottle Jason offers him and takes a swig. It burns going down and he knows he’ll be feeling pleasantly fuzzy in a minute.

Soon, half the vodka’s gone and Percy’s just about losing his mind. Jason doesn’t look affected at all and he still hasn’t spoken a word. He can’t see much of Jason’s face in the light but he wonders if Jason does this a lot—if Jason’s drunk, then he’s a satyr. His alcohol tolerance must be through the roof. Not for the first time, he realises he barely knows anything about Jason. And it doesn’t help that he looks composed as usual while Percy’s literally lying on the floor struggling to keep his mouth shut.

“Jason, why don’t we talk? Like ever?” Percy whines, finally giving up.

The corners of Jason’s mouth quirk up. “I’ll be honest, you never talk to me either. Was there anything you wanted to speak about?”

“Yes. No. I don’t know,” he huffs in frustration, grabbing the bottle out of Jason’s hands. His whole body is warm and buzzing and their room looks fuzzy around the edges. He wants to do something, anything. Talk. Play a game. Hell, he’d even take dancing—lying on the floor in silence is boring and it’s honestly a waste of being drunk. “It doesn’t have to be important, man. It’s just nice to goof around sometimes.”

Jason shrugs, the movement fluid despite the alcohol he’s ingested. He looks amused. “Have anything in mind, Jackson?”

_I want a shag,_ thinks Percy but there’s no way in Hades he’s going to say that out loud. Not when Jason’s smirking at him like that. He’s going to sound like a pity party, poor Percy Jackson the hero who can’t get a lay when he wants one. “I don’t know. Anything.”

And maybe Jason’s drunker than Percy thinks because he lets out a laugh Percy hasn’t heard from him before. It’s nothing like the polite chuckle he uses when he’s trying to be friendly or even the careless snort that he lets out when Percy’s just done something stupid. For the first time, he sounds rough, dark and slightly wild, more like the wolves that raised him than the Roman Legion that shaped him. The sound sends shivers down Percy’s spine and he scowls, not needing to be even more sexually frustrated.

He stands up, trying to ignore the way the cabin is spinning around him, and opens the window to take a deep breath. The air smells slightly like the sea and it sobers him up somewhat. This is sad. Percy’s changed his mind: his only friend at camp isn’t boring, he’s fucking infuriating. Does he really find Percy’s sour mood amusing? He’s so busy contemplating going for a wank that he almost misses Jason’s next words.

“If we’re gonna do anything, we might as well just fuck.” 

Percy turns around, stunned. Jason’s come away from the wall and is sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows braced on his knees and looking up at Percy with dark eyes. Percy gulps. “Really, Grace?” he asks, even though he wants to jump Jason right now and fuck him senseless. Or get fucked. Sure, he refused to let Annabeth peg him but he’s evolved since then and now understands the wonders of the male prostate. Honestly, he’s not fussy anymore. “Very classy. That’s a way into a man’s bed.”

Jason just shrugs, without an ounce of shame. “Would you like me to add a pretty please? I’m not blind Percy, I can see you ogling my arse, glasses or not.”

“What was your plan? Get me drunk then ask for sex?”

“Nah,” he says, standing up and crowding against Percy. He can feel his body heat—Jason’s grown over the past year and stands a good inch taller than Percy. Percy gulps, but Jason just reaches past him and shuts the window. It suddenly feels very hot.

Jason steps away again, but he’s still close enough for Percy to see the way his eyes look exceptionally dark. “So, what do you say? Maybe I’m not good enough for a chat but I can promise I’m a damn good lay.”

Oh fuck, Jason’s definitely planning on taking control. Percy can tell by the way he’s casually giving him a once-over, not bothering hide the erection in his pants. He’s not wearing underwear. Percy’s mouth goes dry but he manages to toss him his signature troublemaker smirk.

“If we’re gonna do anything, we might as well just fuck,” Percy echoes his words back at him when he finally realises Jason’s exactly on the same wavelength and he steps forwards, looping his arms around Jason’s shoulders. For a second, neither of them move. Jason’s pinning Percy down with a hungry stare and it takes everything Percy’s got not to jump him and rip all his clothes off then and there. Evidently, the months of celibacy aren’t doing his self-control any good.

They don’t say anything; they never do, after all. Instead, Jason gazes at him a second more—it’s not awkward, it never is. It’s just frustrating sometimes. Percy can’t hide the soft sigh of satisfaction he lets out when Jason finally captures his lips in a soft kiss. It’s a lot more intimate than either one of them were expecting.

Percy’s ADHD wonders if maybe it’s only because he hasn’t kissed anyone in so long. It’s bound to be more intimate than what the words _we might as well just fuck_ imply. It’s not a bad thing. Then, Percy lets himself get lost in the sensation of Jason’s lips sliding against his own and even lets out another content sigh when Jason slips his tongue into his mouth.

He’d be happy to stand there and kiss Jason forever, if he’s being honest with himself. Maybe Jason doesn’t talk to him, but Percy’s finally found something useful for his mouth to do and he isn’t going to let that go. It’s nice.

But then Jason deepens their kiss and most of his thoughts fly to the back of his mind—there’s only one thing he can focus on now and it’s the way Jason’s twining their tongues around. That’s _really_ nice. And Percy’s getting impatient now; their kiss started off gentle, sure, but he’s got his needs. And he’ll be damned if he doesn’t do something about the sexual frustration that’s been nagging him for the past months and the erection in his pants that really wants attention.

And again, somehow, Jason seems to sense that and moves his hands down from Percy’s waist. They linger teasingly on his waistband before diving in and cupping Percy’s ass, dragging him forwards to grind against the bulge in Jason’s own pants. Percy doesn’t even try muffle his moan. He has a feeling the Jason will like it, and he’s not disappointed—he lets out a low groan to match Percy’s and pulls away to toss his shirt over his head, before going straight back to ravaging Percy’s mouth.

Percy shoves Jason towards his bunk—as much as he likes the kissing, he’s here with a mission. First and foremost, Percy wants to get off with another person for literally the first time in almost a year. He’s horny as hell and lonely. Second, Percy wants to unravel Jason and the stupid rice-pudding personality he always puts on around him. It’s infuriating. Gods, the hours Percy’s spent fantasising about wiping the bland look off Jason’s face and making him lose control for once…

He takes control of the kiss and forces Jason to sit on the side of the bunk but when Jason makes a move to lie down and drag Percy on top of him, Percy seizes his hips with absolutely no amount of gentleness and pins him where he is.

“Percy, what— _ah._ ”

_Good,_ Percy thinks, smirking into Jason’s crotch. He’s just mouthed the growing erection there and he can tell that Jason’s slipping—he definitely wasn’t anticipating that and his mouth has fallen open in a silent moan. Maybe he thinks Percy just wants to get off—he probably isn’t expecting the second thing on Percy’s list.

Percy snakes his hand into Jason’s pants, gripping his erection. He’s big. Really fucking big, definitely bigger that Percy, and he hasn’t even seen it yet. It’s probably a Jupiter thing. Percy grins and yanks Jason’s pants down, enjoying the way that Jason’s legs automatically fall apart around his head.

And yes, it’s as big as he thought it was and flushed red. Jason looks gorgeous as usual, his eyes heavy lidded as he looks down at Percy. He’s biting his lip and his hands are thrown back to support him, defining his triceps. His torso looks like it’s been sculpted from marble in the moonlight—there’s a long strip of white light that’s falling through the window and it lands exactly from his hipbone to the top of his neck. Every muscle is taught but his legs are languidly spread for Percy, with his dick only inches from his face.

In conclusion, he still looks like a sculpture and Percy scowls. He’s supposed to be making Jason lose control here. So, he takes the plunge and leans forwards, pausing with his lips only millimetres from the head.

Percy’s never sucked dick before, but it can’t be that hard. He’s watched porn, and he’s felt Annabeth’s mouth on his own cock plenty of times before, back when they still used to fool around. And besides, Percy has a secret weapon. First of all, he doesn’t have a gag reflex, for some reason. And second, maybe it’s a Poseidon kid thing but he can hold his breath for a very, very long time.

Percy meets Jason’s lust-blown eyes one more time before lunging forwards with a cheeky smirk and swallowing down as much of Jason’s cock as he can—and maybe, even with his abilities, he can’t take all eight inches down, but he can damn well try. It’s a weird sensation and eight inches is way bigger than Percy’s ever seen before, fucking hell.

But Jason’s actually let out a guttural moan and he’s tangled his hands in Percy’s hair, gripping so tightly it almost hurts. Percy grins as much as he can with a cock halfway down his throat. Jason probably wasn’t expecting him to just go and swallow it: normally there’s some sort of teasing first, like licking or kissing or something.

Then, Percy remembers that he’s supposed to do things. He’s done the easy part, which is fit the damn thing in his mouth in the first place, and now he’s somehow gotta get Jason coming apart in front of him. The thought turns him on more than he wants to admit, and Percy gets to work in earnest, bobbing his head up and down while Jason grips his hair so hard he’s surprised it’s not coming off in chunks.

With a new burst of determination, he licks along its length and kisses the head and even relaxes his grip on Jason’s hips to fondle his balls. And whatever the hell he’s doing, it’s working because Jason looks fucking wrecked. His eyes are shut and his jaw is clenched tightly, and his whole body is flushed. But he’s still not lost control and Percy growls, knowing this calls for drastic measures. Slowly, he takes his mouth off Jason’s dick, ignoring his gasp of protest as it’s exposed to the cold air, and leans down to mouth at his balls instead. Then, he reaches up to shove Jason down onto the bed and grabs a pillow, propping his hips up. Percy crawls up onto the bed with him, still not quite believing what he’s about to do but determined to make the idiot Roman lose all of his composure.

Percy jerks him off a couple of times before pulling his hips towards him and experimentally flattening his tongue over the small hole there. Jason freezes in shock and Percy chuckles, waiting for him to push him away. He doesn’t, so Percy continues, alternating between sucking dick and swirling his tongue around Jason’s arsehole. Eventually, he gets a finger inside him and _fuck,_ he’s tight. Percy’s own dick throbs at the thought of entering that, but somehow he manages to keep his focus and feels around inside his arse. He knows roughly where it is; he’s fingered himself before, after all.

Jason moans and arches his back when Percy finally finds that spot but somehow, he still looks annoyingly perfect: yes, he’s covered in a sheen of sweat and yes, his whole body is flushed and arched backwards but honestly, if he could, Percy would totally make that into a sculpture. He’s aiming higher, here. He wants Jason to lose control completely, whether that means making him unable to form complete sentences because he’s so fucked, or to the point of snapping and fucking Percy senseless.

Percy goes back to licking and sucking at Jason’s dick, at the same time as he regularly fucks him with two fingers. His jaw aches but he doesn’t care, not when Jason’s trembling like that. He bucks once, and Percy pulls away immediately, sensing he’s about to come. Jason groans out a curse and sits up to glare at him, still shaking. To Percy’s immense satisfaction, he looks angry for once and very sex-addled. He’s silently cursing Percy to damnation and wondering why the hell he stopped—and there’s something very hot about his expression.

Percy’s cock twitches but he just smiles innocently at Jason, knowing how fucked he must look—there’s a line of spit connecting his lips and Jason’s dick, and he can’t even imagine how his hair must look, what with Jason holding onto it like it’s his lifeline.

“Talk to me Jason,” he says, not expecting his voice to sound as rough and raspy as it does. It adds to the teasing effect, though. “I don’t know what you want.”

Jason’s face takes on an expression that looks terrifying in the moonlight—it’s a snarl, but more wolfish than he thought possible. Percy gulps.

“I think you know what I want.”

“Show me,” breathes Percy, the challenge in his voice obvious.

Jason’s eyes flash, then suddenly Percy’s choking on a dick as Jason roughly grips his hair and fucks his mouth. He knows Percy can take it, he’s just seen him swallow eight inches like it’s no problem.

Percy can only moan desperately around his dick and scrabble at the bedsheets while Jason uses his throat as a way to get off. For some reason, it’s incredibly arousing and Percy’s own woefully neglected dick is throbbing between his legs. It’s all he can do to try and breathe and keep his teeth out of the way while Jason thrusts in and out of his pliant mouth.

At some point, he gets back with the programme a bit and starts trying to help, hollowing his cheeks and licking the vein on the underside. Percy never thought he’d enjoy giving a blowjob, or rather, Jason viciously using his mouth to get off. Before he knows it, Jason’s movements are becoming erratic and he groans loudly, trying to pull Percy’s head off his dick. But Percy just leans forwards again and swallows everything that comes out of his dick, only letting up when Jason finishes orgasming completely.

He lets Jason’s dick slide out of his mouth with an obscene pop, slightly dizzy from the limited oxygen he’s been getting. Before he can recover and sort out the problem between his legs, Jason’s grabbed him and flipped them over, making Percy even more disorientated than he already is. He doesn’t know what Jason’s doing but he just goes with it—Jason’s kissing him wildly and hungrily, his legs pinning down Percy’s hips and his left hand both bracing himself and trapping Percy underneath him. Percy can’t see what he’s doing with the other hand.

He rolls his hips against Percy and he’s shocked to find that somehow, Jason’s still hard. Godly sex drive, maybe? Not that he’s complaining. In fact, Percy lets out a moan as Jason does it again and maybe he has a dry-ass personality but he’s fucking good at the whole sex thing. He’s driving Percy up the wall—he’s dizzy with arousal but nowhere near ready to come, and he feels like that’s exactly Jason’s plan.

Eventually, Jason stops kissing him and sits up, straddling Percy. He has to catch his breath then because _fuck,_ he’s struck again by how beautiful Jason is. His hair is adorably curled from the sweat sticking to it, and his normally pink lips are swollen from all the kissing. The way he’s looking at Percy is sinful—his hooded eyes are dark and predatory and he’s biting his lip seductively.

Percy makes to sit up and run his hands down that lean torso but Jason pins his shoulder to the mattress with one hand, leaving Percy to grab his waist desperately. But then, he notices exactly where Jason’s other hand is. Somehow, Jason did such a good job of distracting him that he failed to notice the open bottle of lube tossed carelessly on the floor or the fact that Jason had three fingers up his own ass the whole time

Percy’s eyes roll back in his head and he lets out an embarrassingly high-pitched moan when Jason adjusts himself on Percy’s lap and sinks down onto his dick. Sure, he thought he was nowhere near coming but he’s still having a damn hard time controlling himself. Jason hasn’t bothered with any more lube on his dick; they’re using what’s left over from the fingering and Percy’s pre-come. They’re not using a condom; Jason knows damn well that Percy hasn’t been laid in a year. It’s rough and dirty and with that extra edge that Percy needs but isn’t sure he can handle—he’s dangerously close to coming already.

Jason’s definitely not playing around. He gives them both maybe 5 seconds to adjust, then he’s moving and at no slow pace either. It leaves Percy scrabbling at the sheets for purchase and desperately trying to hold on as Jason rides him with abandon. It’s hot and dirty and Jason’s not showing any restraint—with a thrill of satisfaction, Percy realises that for the first time, he’s witnessing Jason losing composure completely. He looks wild and wolfish as he thrusts down onto Percy’s dick again and again, his powerful thighs working furiously. And he feels _so good_ around Percy’s dick that his restraint is already crumbling—Percy’s already trembling, mouth hanging open, as he desperately tries to starve off his orgasm.

And annoyingly, even though he looks completely wild, he still looks fucking perfect and Percy would definitely be content at staring at him for the rest of his life. That’s the last thought he has before he can’t physically take it anymore and he bucks upwards wildly, a string of curses pouring from his mouth as Jason continues driving down onto him. His orgasm is so forceful he barely registers Jason sliding off his limp dick and jerking himself off expertly before Percy has a chance to offer his help.

He comes on Percy’s chest, head thrown back in an expression of anguished ecstasy and honestly, Percy doesn’t think he’s ever seen something more beautiful. He leans down when he’s done, hovering above Percy’s chest and trembling slightly and his breath comes harsh and shaky in Percy’s ear.

Percy wants to reach out and trace the curve of his jaw and kiss him softly but for the first time, he’s uncertain around Jason. He’s just been given the best shag of his life and he’s not even sure if he considers Jason his friend. Before he can make up his mind and just go for it, Jason’s gone.

He’s walking surprisingly normally for someone who’s legs and arse should be completely dead from the vigorous fucking he’s just done and Percy scowls to himself—of course Jason’s good at that too, while Percy’s lying on the bed with jizz splattered over his chest and no energy to do anything about that, even though he hasn’t even done anything.

Jason tosses him a towel over his shoulder, leaving Percy to clean himself up, then yawns and stretches, his body shining dimly in the moonlight. Percy finally regains some semblance of control over his limbs and tears his gaze away from Jason, focusing on sitting up and cleaning off his chest. There’s spunk all over the sheets and he can’t be arsed to change them.

Thankfully, Jason doesn’t shove him out when he crosses the small distance and shoves Jason to one side of his bunk, crawling in next to him. He just laughs, sounding soft and content, and chucks an arm around Percy’s waist.

He still hasn’t spoken a word. Percy frowns and flicks Jason’s lip.

“What?”

“Aren’t you going to talk to me?”

“What’s there to talk about?” Jason’s got a half-smile on and Percy doesn’t quite know what to make of it. “We never talk.”

Percy pouts. “Yeah, and it’s annoying. I didn’t know you’re a fucking power bottom, Grace, and I also didn’t know you have the alcohol tolerance of a god.”

A slightly surprised look breaks out on Jason’s face but it quickly merges into a dopey smile that makes Percy’s heart melt for some reason. “You want to start talking?"

“Yeah, I want to know about you, man. I spent the last year thinking you’ve got the driest personality, like, ever. Please prove me wrong, or I don’t think I’ll last summer.”

Jason chuckles. “And here I was, thinking you just didn’t want to talk to me for whatever reason. Alright, shoot. What do you want to know about me, Jackson?”

“Uhhh,” says Percy, mind drawing a complete blank. Jason’s really cute and his eyes are distracting. “What’s your favourite colour?” he blurts out.

Jason rolls onto his back and bursts out laughing, and it’s the most genuine thing Percy’s ever heard. He can’t believe he ever thought Jason was boring when even a simple laugh sounds so full of life. “You’re not being serious.”

“Deadly serious,” Percy supports himself on his forearm so he’s looking down at Jason and pokes his nose, trying desperately to keep a straight face.

“Fine,” snorts Jason. “It’s blue.”

“Blue?” for some reason, Percy’s surprised. “Why?”

“Why not?” Jason grins, his half-smirk back on his lips as he looks up at Percy. “Do I need some profound reason? It’s a nice, calm, generally unproblematic colour. Like, I don’t know what you want me to say, it’s the colour of my dead mum’s eyes?”

“Oh, shut up you git. Basic bitch.”

“Fine then, what’s your favourite colour then, you pretentious fuck?” asks Jason, looking affronted, but there’s no real bite in it.

Percy bites his lip and drops his gaze. “Blue.”

“What—oh, you’ve got to be kidding me,” Jason laughs again, light and carefree. “Well what’s your profound reason for liking blue then? Is it because it’s the colour of my stunning _orbs_?” he teases, fluttering his eyelashes at Percy, who shoves him playfully.

“Course it is, why else?”

He rumbles another quiet chuckle as Percy settles on his chest and closes his eyes. Maybe Camp isn’t going to be so boring after all.

***

_~Two days later~_

Annabeth frowns, her hands hovering above the bar of chocolate she’s about to eat. She’s in her dorm and something’s just occurred to her—she’s been hooking up with mortals for over two months but technically, she still hasn’t broken up with Percy. A wave of guilt hits her. If she’s being honest, she completely forgot they were still technically together. They haven’t spoken for months and their relationship was hella dry before that, but what if Percy thinks they’re still together?

She makes up her mind to Iris-message him, just to confirm they’re definitely no longer an item, and leave it on civilised terms. Just in case.

Annabeth quickly locks her dorm, just in case her mortal roommate comes back, and pulls a prism out of her wardrobe. She checks the time difference and it should be early morning on the east coast. Knowing Percy, he’s probably not awake yet but it’s worth a try. It should be nearly breakfast anyway.

But when Iris connects her call, it’s definitely not a sleeping Percy she’s looking at. No. It’s Jason, balls-deep in someone’s ass? What?

And—Holy Hera, she’s definitely going mad because there’s no fucking way that the writhing, moaning mess underneath him is… Percy? The same Percy who refused to let her peg him? No fucking way.

Annabeth’s too frozen in shock to even try and break the connection. Her limbs aren’t obeying her. In all her years of monster-fighting, she’s never seen anything so scarring that her body’s natural response is to freeze in horror, like a baby rabbit caught in the headlights of a fucking 42 tonne truck.

But before she can swipe through the rainbow or gag in disgust or anything, Percy looks up from where his face is squashed against the pillow and spots her. Somehow, while being brutally pounded from the back, he manages to laugh (presumably at her horrified face) and wink at her, then if that wasn’t bad enough, Jason spots her as well. He doesn’t stop ploughing into Percy like it’s his last morning on earth and he doesn’t break eye contact with Annabeth either. Nope, he throws her a roguish smirk and gives Percy’s arse a clean smack.

That does it for Annabeth. Her brain finally catches up and she slashes her hand through the rainbow, praying to every god above to wipe the traumatising image from her mind because fuck, that’s not something she can un-see.

_Well._

At least she doesn’t have to worry about Percy being hung on her.

Annabeth feels slightly queasy. Suddenly, that chocolate really doesn’t seem that appetising anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Haha that had a really lighthearted ending, I originally intended it to be a bit more impersonal and angsty, like Percy trying to hold onto the remnants of an old life? Oh well, couldn’t resist. It kind of turned into a disaster. 
> 
> It’s my first time writing 6000+ words entirely in the same scene and tbh, it was a challenge. Let me know if you liked it, or if it got boring! The fic was supposed to be loosely based on the song ‘Sex’ by the 1975 (congrats if you recognised the line ‘if we’re gonna do anything, we might as well just fuck’). The song is unusual in the way it doesn’t actually have a chorus (it’s a narrative-- or so spotify decided to tell me), which I tried reflecting in the way it’s a whole ass long scene and the way Percy’s sort of technically with Annabeth, is super sexually frustrated and lonely, and how he low-key loves/hates Jason. As I said before, I was intending to make it more impersonal and leave Percy feeling content with what he’s done but still unsatisfied, while he’s still struggling to build up a new life.  
> Anyways. I’m overthinking it. It's a dumb one-shot. 
> 
> Leave them kudos if you liked it, please and thank you.  
> Jx


End file.
